


Fill Me Up

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner is a size queen.  And the Hulk is a size queen's dream.  Ne'er the twain shall meet.  Luckily Bruce has a very accommodating boyfriend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [a prompt at avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/10266.html?thread=22089498#t22089498): Hulk is a size queen's wet dream, ultimate fantasy, goal... Too bad it's Bruce that's the size queen.
> 
> So, partner of your choosing figures out that  
> One: Bruce likes big things...  
> Two: Bruce likes reeeeeaaaally big things...  
> Three: It seems one of the major reason Bruce can't seem to do sex is that every time he starts getting into it his mind reverts back to- fantasies, mainly those involving the Other Guy and wondering exactly how big he is. (Though he's seen the news footage, he can pretty much guess) And that actual WANT for the Other Guy is what keeps trying to bring him out.
> 
> Major points if Random partner of your choosing helps figure out a way to indulge Bruce in his fantasies. Toys/whatever seriously, go nuts here!
> 
> Cookies if partner finds out from Bruce getting a little too into some of the footage of the Avengers battles. Even more if he(or she) takes it the wrong way and thinks he's trying to calm the Other Guy by watching his last play date. Hugs if his partner doesn't realize until after Bruce is blushing like a teen who's mother just walked in on them watching porn that it wasn't for the Other Guy...

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking _fair_. There was one, no, _two_ good things about the Hulk, and Bruce Banner was never aware enough to appreciate either of them. 

The second thing was that the Hulk could defeat otherworldly threats with the greatest of ease. He was a hero now, instead of a dangerous, rampaging monster that needed to be captured and/or destroyed. And that was good. Very good, as a matter of fact. One of the few good things that had come out of the accident.

The first thing... That was a little harder to explain without sounding like the world's most fucked-up narcissist.

Bruce liked it up the ass. It wasn't one of those things you exactly advertised, but a little research as a teenager had given him an itch he'd been trying to scratch ever since. Simple masturbation had been all well and good, but he'd heard rumors that using a finger inside yourself could bring you over the edge in a way that couldn't be believed. Bruce had been a believer. A, a-hem, _big_ believer. One finger had been good. Two had been better. He liked the sensation of penetration, the feeling of fullness, the way all his nerves concentrated on whatever was inside him, honing his pleasure to a fine point.

By the time he'd gotten to college, he'd graduated on to some really lovely toys. And had to leave them all behind after the accident.

It hadn't been until years later that he'd even had the wherewithal to even think of sex. Heck, it hadn't been until someone had gotten clear footage of the Hulk during the incident at Culver College. He'd watched it avidly, at first mesmerized by actually seeing himself in action, feeling a little sick and scared by what he was capable of. Then he caught the Hulk from a different angle, and suddenly Bruce's eyes were riveted on the front of his stretched and frayed shorts. 

He was big. No, fucking _huge_. Bigger than the biggest fist, an enormous, solid throbbing cock that could fill Bruce to the breaking point and beyond, could ream him out and leave him gaping, could fill the enormous void inside him.

Oh God it wasn't _fair_. 

Masturbation couldn’t even touch that fantasy. Any dildo he could get wasn’t enough for him, and as for model fists… well, that honestly took a partner to do safely. And Bruce was getting tired of doing all work himself. He just wanted someone else to take him, to fill him up, to get him gripping the headboard for dear life as his body was dragged back and forth like a toy by the relentless size and strength of his lover.

Then came the Avengers. And Steve.

Steve, who was honestly understanding. Steve, who dropped by the lab to learn what he hadn’t had a chance to, seventy-odd years ago. Steve, who brought him food, who listened to him ramble, who had interesting stories to tell, whom with Bruce was absolutely smitten.

And it was mutual.

There was only one way in which life could get any better. Or, rather, bigger.

Making out with Steve was good. Above the waist touching was also very nice. But when it came to getting below the belt? That’s when the issues arose. Because Bruce’s mind would inevitably stray. He’d be kissing Steve, feeling himself get hard, and then the inevitable picture of the Hulk would cross his mind. Tall and broad, fingers as big as the biggest human cock Bruce had ever seen, and the inevitable bulge at his groin, the thick length that no one sane would ever try to take…

And then the Hulk would understandably get mixed signals, Bruce would have to pull away to convince him he really _didn’t_ have to come out and smash anything now, and there would go his evening with Steve.

Fuck.

It was a problem, one of those serious problems he should probably discuss with his boyfriend. But there was no possibly way to explain that fantasy. Who in their right mind would want that? And above all people, why would _Bruce?_

Intellectually Bruce knew Steve wasn’t stupid, wasn’t inflexible, and was incredibly patient and open-minded.

But this wasn’t an intellectual problem. This was Bruce’s libido and hindbrain working in some kind of sick and twisted harmony he couldn’t bring himself to reveal, not even to his boyfriend.

\--

“Bruce? Hey, there you are!” Steve said happily, and flopped down on the couch next to Bruce, where he’d been wrapped up in a blanket, staring at their latest battle footage with slightly glazed eyes.

Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it. The blanket had been to keep from outraging modesty in case one of the others dropped by and might had spied Bruce’s inevitable erection from watching the Other Guy(‘s crotch) during a fight. But Steve had privileges. It was Steve’s prerogative to lean against him, to steal half his blanket, to drag Bruce into a full-body hug that was the closest they’d gotten to full-on intimacy.

“Catching up on Hulk news?” Steve asked, waving at the screen. Bruce nodded very carefully, holding onto control with everything he had as the next few minutes unspooled. Because this fight was special. This fight the Hulk’s pants lost their battle to stay on his body. A few minutes later, Bruce had a glorious, full-frontal view of the Other Guy’s dick, swinging hypnotically back and forth as he roared and punched out a half-dozen killer robots.

“Bruce?” Steve asked. Bruce came back to himself, and realized Steve had been saying his name several times. He shut his mouth, and nearly expired on the spot when he realized he’d been drooling a little. “Where were you?”

Steve tugged at the blanket and Bruce gave into the inevitable. And it wasn’t going to be pretty: sexual fantasies made him stupid sometimes. Steve leaned against him and covered them both, and paused as he felt Bruce’s arousal tenting his pants. Not an idiot, Steve looked back and forth from the screen to Bruce’s face (and his painful blush), and a lightbulb seemed to go on.

“You like him?” Steve asked, and then shook his head. “No, a _part_ of him.”

Bruce nodded and bit his lip, closing his eyes briefly. This was it. Steve was going to leave him.

“You like it big?” Steve persisted.

“Yes,” Bruce whispered, knowing it was pointless to try to temporize at this point. “I like it _huge._ ”

“Damn,” Steve said, looking back at the screen, brow furrowing in thought. “That explains all the near Hulk-outs.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, feeling about one inch high.

“For what?” Steve sounded far too calm for someone who’d just heard his boyfriend was having sexual fantasies about his raging id monster.

Bruce swallowed and kept his eyes averted. “Steve… I’m dating _you_ , I like _you_ , but I have him stuck in my head and it’s stupid and-.”

“What’s the biggest you’ve had?” Steve asked abruptly, startling Bruce into looking at him again.

“Ah…” Bruce was momentarily caught at a loss for words, but Steve clearly wasn’t going to let this go. “Pretty big, but that was back in college.”

Steve looked at him solemnly, took Bruce’s hand, and put it over his crotch. Under Bruce’s hand Steve’s cock was throbbing, a powerful and substantial bulge against the confining denim. As big at the Hulk? No, nobody was. But big. Bruce knew he was big (his costume didn’t leave much to the imagination), but hadn’t realized he was quite that big.

“Steve,” Bruce breathed, and rubbed gently, loving the way Steve’s face went slack as he stroked. 

“If you want that, I can help,” Steve said, blinking through the haze of pleasure. “I have some ideas…”

“Steve, yes!” Bruce said, his heart suddenly a hundred times lighter. “I didn’t know, I didn’t think you want to-. I mean, that’s not exactly-.”

“Normal?” Steve finished, leaning over to kiss Bruce thoroughly. “We don’t do normal, Bruce. Never did.” 

For long moments Steve just kissed him, down and up his throat, along his neck, until he worked his mouth over to Bruce’s ear. Pleasurable goosebumps chased themselves all over his body as Steve started to speak, the words rumbling in his chest, pressed tight to Bruce’s. 

“I think we have to put something else in your head other than him, right? Bruce, you’re going to listen to me.” Steve’s voice held a note of command Bruce only really heard in the battle videos. “I want to fuck you.”

The curse tripped off Steve’s tongue without a stutter, and yes, Steve did swear, and probably knew bad language even Tony didn’t know, but not often. And not dirty like that. Bruce’s attention was immediately riveted.

“I want to, because you feel so, so good to me. And we’re going to make it work, you and me, together.” Steve pressed his lips against the pulse point of Bruce’s throat and licked a slow, hot stripe along the path of blood. “Let me tell you what I’m going to do to you.”

“Please,” Bruce breathed, intelligence flown entirely out the window, unable to communicate in more than single words. 

“I’d open you up, just a little, just enough for me. I want to be inside you, filling you up, every inch of me.”

Steve bucked a little against Bruce’s hand as Bruce squeezed him almost involuntarily, greedy and wanting his true measure. It took willpower Bruce didn’t even know he needed to not fumble for Steve’s zipper. Catching his breath quickly, Steve kept talking, keeping Bruce’s attention solely focused on him.

“But you’d want more than that, wouldn’t you, Bruce? I’d be inside you, stretching you, but I know you need more. You need everything I can give you.” Steve breathed against Bruce’s ear as his hand brushed alongside Bruce’s jaw. “My fingers. I’d get them slick and work one inside, right alongside my cock. Then another. And another. And other. I’ve got big hands, Bruce. Really big hands. I could practically jack myself off inside you.”

Bruce forgot to breathe as his mind pounced on that fantasy, imagining Steve bent over him, fingers and cock working in concert to stretch him out.

“And you’d want more, because you know I could give it to you. I’d come just hearing you beg for it, and you’d be so full of me. But it wouldn’t be enough for you, because you are the one person I could give _everything_ to. And I _want_ to give you everything. I’d slide out, but I wouldn’t let you go before you were satisfied. I’d put my whole hand in there, so deep inside you.”

Bruce remembered that oxygen was a good thing, but kept listening, mouthing almost mindlessly at Steve’s neck as he kept narrating.

“My whole hand inside you, and I could watch how your eyes would just roll up, and you’d be _so hard_. Feel me.” Steve put Bruce’s hand on his forearm, so thickly muscled that Bruce whimpered slightly. “All of that, inside you.”

“Oh God…” Bruce was nearly _gone_ , imagining.

“And there’d be even more for you.”

“How? How, Steve, how?” Because Bruce could feel his body practically stretching to the limits in his mind, but the idea of going beyond them was what really got to him. And Steve _got_ that so well Bruce couldn’t think of anything but him.

“You’ve got toys somewhere, I know it. You’d pick your favorite, and I’d hold it in my fist.”

The thought of one of Bruce’s most impressive dildos held in Steve’s big hands while squeezed inside him-. Bruce arched against Steve’s body, his orgasm overwhelming him at Steve’s words, writhing against Steve’s touch desperately.

“Damn,” Steve whispered, sounding breathless. He tilted up Bruce’s head to kiss his lust-hazed mouth.

“Need you,” Bruce managed, eyes half-lidded. “Right now.”

“What about the Other Guy?” Steve was sounding downright smug, not that Bruce blamed him.

“He’s not here and his pillow talk is crap,” Bruce said, blinking himself back to reality and pulling Steve against him. “I want _you_.” He returned Steve’s kiss with interest even as he gasped a little the feel of Steve’s length pressing against him. “Always did.”

“I know. Me too,” Steve said, and pulled them both towards their bedroom.


End file.
